


drowning.

by judesrivers



Category: Men's Basketball RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Even 2 time mvps get overwhelmed, Klay is steph's comfort pillow, M/M, Nervous breakdowns, Sad, Self-Doubt, Steph is conflicted, This is after the recent game vs suns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: Klay comes to the arena after the hard loss to the Suns to pick up Steph. What he was greeted with had been an upsetting sight.
Relationships: Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	drowning.

**Author's Note:**

> hiyooo hope you like this!  
> excuse the errors

"He's doing it again." Said a blunt Oubre through the cloth of his mask, brushing past a deeply concerned Klay after heaving the strap his bag over his shoulder while he left out of the locker room, door closing obnoxiously behind him. It was as if he was detatched to the idea that he littered the whole game with bad plays, only just to do it again unless he has a unpredictable spur like Minnesota game before this one. Klay had craned his head at Kelly, watching with a deadpanned glare as the pretty man grasped at his coat and opened the door to head out into the main gym while dapping the few remaining men left up.

Moving his head forward again, Klay had managed a shallow exhale, nearing the door to the lockeroom and tilting the handle, pushing the door opened carefully to hear actual thud sounds that shook the room. It wasn't surprising to witness his boyfriend, his teammate, losing his temper for once in his life and shoving his fucking fist repeatedly against his now dented locker. Not just with any hand, but the hand he _broke_ last season. "Steph!" Klay called out, his voice booming since he barely had to raise it, rushing over to him as fast as he possibly could with this damn boot on his fucking leg. Steph had halted, but then attempted to resume, about to put one last blow against the locker that could have possible been the end of his season, until Klay firmly grappled at his wrist. "What the _fuck_ are you doing? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Steph had hissed, his hand pulsing, as well as his stress levels. "Get away from me!" Klay heard his voice crack, trembling from the combined emotions bottling up inside of him. But this was Klay, so when their eyes met, Steph's voice had softened. "Let me go Klay, let me go."

"No."

Steph weakly pulled, body shaking. Klay realized that he was having some type of nervous breakdown, it's been brewing since he'd got injured, but Steph would never openly admit to having breakdowns before a couple of games. This is the hardest part about rehab, and road games. Klay couldn't really be there to see what was going on with Steph, but he could see it on the court when he's watching. How sluggish and out of Steph looks sometimes, the embarassing close-ups of him pouting, glaring, visibly pissed off on the bench. Then there was his younger brother Seth being diagnosed with that cursed Coronavirus.

With his mind distracted, Steph took advantage and moved his hand away from Klay, sending his foot against the locker this time before Klay could even make a move to stop him. The kick to the locker circuiting a vile swift pain to undulate up to his already conflicted ankle, making a tremor shoot through his frame as he stumbled back, not putting any weight on his foot while Klay had cursed aloud. "Can you fucking stop? Get a hold of yourself man! You hurting yourself isn't going to make things better Steph!" Klay had snapped, running a hand through his curls as Steph tumbled on one foot towards a nearby seat, face flushed and chest heaving as he began to even his breathing as he landed on it.

Klay waddled his way (fucking boot) towards Steph, and stood in front of him with a frustrated look on his face. "Breathe baby. Okay? Breathe. I know shit is bad, I know-"

"No, no you _don't_. Everything is fucking up. Kerr doesn't know how to coach _me_ anymore. Kelly is over here thinking he's you. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm fucking doing, and I just-" Steph felt nauseous. "It's painful to even try and shoot the ball now. I don't even feel like myself when I do it. Because I feel like it's fucking _meaningless_ when you're -"

" _I'm not there._ " Klay had finished, his voice lowered. "I can't help that Steph."

"I know." Steph gritted his teeth, throat knotting into a burning sensation and his cheeks flushing with tears of frustration glazing his light green eyes. "It's just too overwhelming. Sometimes when I am into it, things aren't even going the way I want. I tried to talk to Kerr but he's telling me to be patient and shit, it's just - everything feels so _raw, and I'm trying so hard._ "

"Steph." Klay began, but the older had looked away from him tearfully. Clearly he was in some physical and mental pain, Klay was treading on calling Kyrie to convince Steph to sit out for a couple of games - even if it makes them the last seed.

"Basketball isn't fun to me right now." Said Steph, a clearly exhausted man who is madly in love with the game of basketball, probably more than he's in love with Klay. The idea of Steph feeling so much animosity towards the game was deeply unsettling for the both of them, they found each other off of basketball and if Steph had been slowly slipping away from it then what?

Klay ran his hand down his face, feeling speechless. It barely happens when Steph gets rarely vulnerable, but this time around, his words were cutting deep. "You don't mean that baby." Was all that pathetically dispersed from Klay's mouth as Steph rubbed distractedly at his disrupted ankles, slowly healing from the kick to the locker. "Listen, shit has been rough." Klay started, grasping at Steph's brusied hand, thankfully not broken again from the punches. The younger brushed his fingers against the hand, caressing it gently with his touch. "Don't pin it all on yourself because it's not exactly your fault Steph. Basketball is a team game, and it's hard work all of the time. Shit like this can drain your mental health, that's what's happening and this pandemic as well. It's taking a toll on everyone."

Steph murmured a teary, "Make it stop Klay."

Klay took a step towards him, his closeness making Steph's cold heart begin to warm a bit. Moving in between his legs and Klay began pulling Steph into a hug so that the side of the smaller man's head rested against his stomach. "If I could make it stop, I would without any hesitation. We've got a lot of season left to go Steph, a lot of things that could be adjusted like we've all been saying."

"Hm," Steph had hummed, burying his face into Klay's shirt, and desperately seeking comfort in his boyfriend's warmth.

"It may seem like I don't know how bad things are right now, but I do." Klay had said as he pulled away from him, tilting Steph's head up with his freehand so that their eyes could meet. "I'm in this shit too you know? Look at me, I'm _one_ of the bad things that happened to us. See?" Klay had darkly chuckled, and stepped back, homorously wiggling the damned boot on his right healing foot.

Steph broke into a small pained smile, looking down at the boot and bringing his good hand up to wipe at his eyes. "I'm sorry." He said, voice soft and still completely vulnerable. Klay ran his hand through Steph hair, accepting the apology without saying anything. That's how it usually goes. "I don't want to throw the term depressed around, but I've been in a really bad mental slump for the last few months, and our games are so close together, it feels like I don't really have tme to think for myself."

"And that's okay, if you need to sit out for a game then do it. I know twitter might say shit like 'he's pulling a Kyrie' but your mental health is before anything baby. Just remember that."

Steph felt a sudden ripple of affection for this man barelling through his body as he nodded his head, a small smile on his face as he mumbled: "Okay. I'll think about sitting out soon, but not right now at least. Maybe after we win three times in a row."

Klay caressed his cheek, "Anything you want, just don't push yourself." He said before leaning down to Stpeh's level, gently bringing their lips together as both of their eyes fluttered closed from the much needed act of affection. Steph fell into the rhythm Klay had conjured, growing more and more at peace as their lips moved against each other's in sync. The feeling of Klay's thumb brushing gently at his cheek, along with the soft brush of his tongue parting through his plump lips made him shiver and clutch desperately at Klay's hand with his own. The younger had pulled away after awhile, letting his lips linger against Steph's for a bit as he murmured, "Let's go and head home. I want to make sure you feel all the way better."

Steph's breath hitched, eyes widening a bit from the hidden message of that sentence, his face plummeting into a light pink tint. All he could push out was a soft and tranquil. "Alright."

•••


End file.
